


The Promise of a Sunrise

by Haywire



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-24
Updated: 2016-07-24
Packaged: 2018-07-26 13:34:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7575901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Haywire/pseuds/Haywire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maria checks in on Wanda and they share a quiet moment post-Ultron.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Promise of a Sunrise

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sevenofspade](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sevenofspade/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Hush](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5940460) by [sevenofspade](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sevenofspade/pseuds/sevenofspade). 



> A remix of [Hush](archiveofourown.org/works/5940460) by [sevenofspade.](http://archiveofourown.org/users/sevenofspade/pseuds/sevenofspade) Hope you enjoy it!

Loss was never easy to accept. This was a concept with which Maria was unfortunately more than familiar; even in victory, like the one they’d ostensibly just had, there were always losses.

In the battle with Ultron, the losses had been catastrophic. The number of Sokovian casualties climbed each time she checked, which had made Maria stop checking. Unfortunately there was no avoiding the never ending news coverage, so she was kept up to date whether she liked it or not.

Then there were the losses that hit closer to home, the most recent of which was that of Pietro Maximoff, also known as Quicksilver. While Petro and his sister, Wanda - who was also known as Scarlet Witch - hadn’t been part of the team for long, they had certainly gone above and beyond the call of duty in helping shut down Ultron once and for all.

There had been a small, private ceremony held for Pietro back at Stark Tower once the dust settled, with his sister taking possession of his ashes and dealing with them according to her own wishes. Tony had even erected a memorial to the late Maximoff in the new base, with Wanda’s blessing, complete with a beautiful fountain and a plaque detailing his history and the sacrifice he made.

Maria frequently visited the site herself, using it as a place to reminisce and remember all the other sacrifices that lay in her past, both of the distant and not so distant varieties. On her way back from one such sojourn, she faintly heard what sounded like crying coming from a nearby washroom. She decided to investigate, and slowly pushed open the door before heading inside.

Wanda Maximoff was standing in front of the washroom counter, hands on either side of the sink and her head hung low. The water was still running from the faucet, the sounds of it gurgling and sloshing down the drain the only thing breaking the silence. The younger lady reached down and placed both hands under the stream, opening and closing her fingers and watching the water collect then disappear for a few times before splashing it on her face.

Her eyes locked with Maria’s through the large mirror which nearly ran the length of the wall. Wanda’s mascara - or rather what was left of it - resembled the running water, sliding from the faucets of her eyes and down over her cheeks. Her eyes were nearly as red as her namesake, and she made no efforts to cover it up.

“I have waterproof mascara,” volunteered Maria, digging into her purse for a split second and removing it without looking. She tried to avoid thinking about how her need for control and order had grown to include her own purse as she laid the bottle on the counter next to Wanda’s closest hand.

After Coulson… after _that_ Maria had taken it upon herself to upgrade what little makeup she used to the waterproof variety. That familiar pang of close to home loss hit her again as she realized that, with a quick, sharp stab to her stomach. She turned to leave Wanda deal with her own loss; she could get the mascara back later at any rate.

“Please stay,” Wanda said, reaching out and taking Maria’s hand.

She stops and turns toward Wanda again, this time facing her directly and not through the mirror. While Maria isn’t looking at the younger woman’s reflection, she nonetheless sees a striking amount of similarities between herself and Wanda. She also is struck at just how _young_ Wanda is in that moment. When they had been fighting side by side against their common foe she’d known that her and Pietro weren’t the same age as her and the Avengers, but now outside of battle, inside this overwhelming grief, it hits her like the cold water that Wanda was just applying to her own face.

“We were born together. I always thought we’d die together. I think we did.” Wanda turns her eyes back to the mirror, staring at her reflection, though Maria knows who she’s really looking for in that gaze.

Maria reached out and softly placed her hand on Wanda’s closest shoulder. “You’re alive.”

“Am I?” replied Wanda, as cold as the water that was still slowly pooling in the sink below them.

“Are any of us?” Maria searched for the words, unsure of what she had to offer Wanda but wanting to offer her something. “When I was your age, I got shot on an op. My heart stopped and when I woke up it was six months later.”

It had been the closest she’d come to death and considering a change of occupation both. They had been equally appealing once she’d thought about it long enough. It had lead her to question her purpose in life, whether she was doing what she was meant to do with it. It had also lead her to wonder if she had actually come through it after all.

“Am I alive?” Maria asked, verbalizing what she’d pondered for months after her own near death experience.

Wanda turned back from the mirror, taking a step closer to Maria. She reached out her left hand, placing it on Maria’s temple, then closed her eyes.

Before Maria could ask just exactly what Wanda was doing, her vision went red. She closed her eyes, expecting to see nothing but darkness and the artificial stars one’s mind fills the darkness with, but everything was still red. Scarlet, even; the sky, the stars, everything twinkled and glowed with a deep scarlet hue.

Her heart felt like it had stopped, and she wasn’t breathing. Maria was just _there_ , floating weightlessly in the infinite void, the crimson chaos of the universe.

And then she blinked, and it was all over. It had only been a second, perhaps a fraction of a second, but Maria was exactly where she had been before Wanda’s touch.

“You are alive,” Wanda affirmed, tilting her head slightly upward and pulling her hand back into her body.

“Thanks for checking,” Maria replied, unsure of what else to say.

Wanda gave her a nod, wordlessly reaching for a tissue from the nearby dispenser on the counter and dabbing at one of her cheeks.

“Do you do this often?” asked Maria, reaching for a tissue herself and carefully helping dry Wanda’s other cheek.

“Every morning of every day, after the bomb.” she answered with a sniff.

“Have you done it lately?” Maria asked, inspecting Wanda’s now dry cheek before throwing her tissue into the garbage.

“Doesn’t work on me,” said Wanda with a slight shake of her head.

“I didn’t mean on you,” answered Maria, taking another tissue out and handing it over to the other woman.

Wanda took the proffered tissue from Maria’s hand with a grin, a flash of hope rising from the crimson chaos of her own life like the promise of a sunrise.


End file.
